


The Wheels of Inevitability

by sinuous_curve



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Genderswap, Nipple Clamps, Tit Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinuous_curve/pseuds/sinuous_curve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You know, once in high school I got into an argument about whether or not the serum made your tits bigger,” Toni says, threading a loop of black cord down the center of Steph’s sternum. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wheels of Inevitability

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Prompted and audienced by locketofyourhair.

“You know, once in high school I got into an argument about whether or not the serum made your tits bigger,” Toni says, threading a loop of black cord down the center of Steph’s sternum. She cinches it tight, and the ropes tied around Steph’s tits tighten up beautifully.

Steph shifts, rolling her shoulders against the little harness of nylon cord Tony’s whipped up and the cuffs holding her hands behind her back. “What was your position?” she asks. Her voice is pitched just slightly lower than usual. It’s a look like her fearless leader voice, but canted slightly more toward a growl than a command. 

“It did,” Toni says mildly. She winds the cord into a secure, pretty little knot between Steph’s breasts. “I mean, really. If you look at the before and after, there was no question. And trust me, at fifteen I spent a lot of time staring at tits.” 

That startles a little laugh from Steph and she ducks her head, still rolling her shoulders and flexing her ribs to test the bounds of what Toni’s done. Toni is perfectly aware that Steph could probably break the cord without too much of an effort, but she won’t. The rope is an accessory, not the point. Toni has better material for when the real goal is to keep Miss America from moving. 

Toni lets her have a couple seconds, then reaches out catches Steph’s jaw in her hand. Her reaction to the touch is full body and immediate and lovely, like a switch flicking over that starts in the focus of her eyes then shoots outward from her spine. She doesn’t melt, really. It’s more than she settles suddenly, solidly into herself, with a kind of razor edged focus and bone deep, palpable want that makes Toni’s heart beat doubletime and her belly kick with heat. 

“Tell me what it was like,” Toni says. She brushes her thumb over Steph’s bottom lip, but doesn’t kiss her. Steph likes to earn her kisses, likes she likes being a good girl. 

Toni releases her jaw with a just a little bit of force; she doesn’t want to send Steph sprawling, but she does knock her just a touch off center so that she has to shift her hips and shoulders to keep her balance. Patches of color appear high on Steph’s cheeks, though whether it’s from any genuine flush of shame or because Steph’s been well conditioned to hide her brazenness behind a facade of innocence Toni has never been entirely sure. 

“It was a little strange,” Steph admits. “Everything was strange? But that, particularly.” 

“How so?” Toni asks, skimming her palm over the small array of toys she spread out next to Steph. She picks up the heaviest, most brutal clamps she owns, the ones that Toni can’t actually wear without tagging out after thirty seconds. Steph’s eyes snap to the bright metal. 

Toni cups one of Steph’s tits in her hand. They’re fucking porn star wet dream tits, and the first time Toni ever (genuinely accidentally) caught sight of Steph stepping naked from a locker room shower her goal in life became finding out what it would take to leave bruises on that pretty, pretty skin. Now, because life is fairer to Toni Stark than she probably really deserves, she could write a fairly thorough thesis on the subject, but she never gets tired of gathering additional data. 

“How so?” Toni prompts, pinching Steph’s nipple and getting a soft little sound in reply. 

“Changed my balance,” Steph says, flexing her hips just a little. By now the metal of the table has to have warmed up against her naked skin, but oh, Toni does love making her squirm like she does when it’s ice cold as she sits down. “They’re heavy. They were heavy.”

Toni makes a noise of assent and closes the clamp around Steph’s nipple. 

“Ah, _Jesus_ ,” Steph exhales, involuntarily rolling her shoulder inward. Her best noises always have the name of God in them, like she can find no filthier way to express what she feels than by taking the Lord’s name in vain. Toni has no particular predilection for Jesus or God or any religion, but she does love Steph’s pretty mouth saying filthy things. 

“Tell me more,” Toni instructs, shifting to Steph’s other tit. That nipple is already hard, just from the shock of pain from the first clamp. 

Steph takes a steady breathing and glances upward. Toni watches the contraction of her throat as she swallows and fights for control. Toni likes this part as well, when Steph pretends that her iron will is going to be near enough to keep her from coming light a freight train and screaming as she does. “The first time I ran, I. It sort of hurt?” Steph manges. 

Toni closes the second clamp and Steph chokes back a cry. “It hurt,” she says, voice coming out faster and stumbling. “It hurt, but good? And then I went back to my quarters and locked the door and got naked.”

“Naked?” Toni repeats, taking a step back to survey her handiwork. The ropes are cutting beautiful indents into Steph’s skin already, and the clamps hang heavy from her nipples. She smiles, and looks at Steph’s bright blue eyes. “Did you jack off to yourself, Miss America?”

Steph _blushes_ and Toni laughs. “You thought about it, didn’t you?” 

Toni catches the clamps with her fingers and just lifts them a little, but even that small change in pressure is enough to make Steph’s spine bow outward and her mouth drop open into a perfectly fucking pornographic little o. Steph is a pin up girl brought to life sometimes, with her high perfect tits and narrow waist and hips. Toni lets the clamps drop and the weight of them makes those perfect tits bounce a little and Steph roll forward with a soft gasp. 

“Did you think about it?” Toni asks, tucking two fingers beneath Steph’s jaw and forcing her head upward. There’s resistance, but it’s less defiance than Steph’s natural inclination to draw what feels good inward and hide it. She’s not particularly practiced at being overt with the things she likes, much less the things that make her wet. 

“I-” Steph begins, and cuts herself off.

Toni grasps the clamps between her fingers and does nothing. Steph goes perfectly still. “Answer the question, Miss America, and I’ll get the cane.”

“A little,” Steph says almost before Toni gets out the question, because her lines between reward and punishment blur and overlap and exist in tangled nebulous ball of the things she wants. “I. I always looked like a boy, you know? Flat. And then I had these and it was. I wanted to be someone else who could fuck me.”

Toni nods. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since I was thirteen and I found those pinups of you, Miss America. In those oh so patriotic corsets with your tits just barely being held in.” She slowly starts to turn the clamps and Steph gasps first, then jerks forward with a low, guttural, lovely cry. And only when Steph pushes her face into Toni’s shoulder does she release them, and the sharp, shocked sound that Steph makes is fucking gorgeous. 

“That was a good answer,” Toni says, pushing Steph back upright. Her eyes are wide and just a touch shocked around the edges. “Let me get that cane.”


End file.
